How closely does a writer's work mimic her life experiences? It's a perennial question made all the more irresistible as it pertains to Lena Dunham, the 26-year-old creator of one of TV's most talked-about shows, and her recently-revealed history of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

In the first season of HBO's Girls, Dunham stirred up debate by, among other things, repeatedly revealing her less-than-perfect body while playing the show's main character, Hannah Horvath. What got people talking as the second season progressed, though, was how serious the show seemed to be getting, especially with its depiction of Hannah coping with a resurgence of her OCD symptoms.

Critics, fans, mental illness activists and patients have largely praised the Girls' depiction of OCD, which they've hailed as convincing and nuanced, but agonizing to watch. One hollywood.com writer and self-described former OCD patient called it "some of the darkest, most difficult material with which Girls has wrestled to date," lauding the show for avoiding the temptation to turn OCD into a mere joke.

The fact that Dunham revealed in a March cover story for Rolling Stone that she's struggled with OCD since childhood - and taken medication for it on and off - gave the topic more buzz. (I discussed what she revealed-and what she didn't-here).

In a HBO behind-the-scenes look at one of the episodes, Dunham disclosed a little more about the connection between her experience and the show's representation of Hannah's OCD - though she didn't go into specifics.

For those looking for a more direct comparison, here's a look about what Dunham has said about her own experiences with OCD symptoms and treatment - and how they compare to Hannah's.

Lena Dunham, the 26-year-old force behind HBO's popular and much-discussed show Girls, hasn't grown famous through discretion.

Part of the cringe-inducing delight of watching Girls is hearing Hannah say things and do things she knows she shouldn't. And part of what's refreshing about Dunham herself are her irreverent, indecorous comments and self-revelations, whether on Twitter, New Yorker essays, or interviews.

So I was especially curious to hear what Dunham had to say about her obsessive-compulsive disorder and medication use in a just-released Rolling Stone cover story. Especially since it was titled

Tragedies like the one at Sandy Hook Elementary aren't just agonizing and heart-wrenching for millions of people - they're frustrating.

We keep asking ourselves "how?" and "why?" And, with authorities still trying to piece together evidence, the public has to make do with limited - and often incorrect - information.

First came reports that the shooter, Adam Lanza, might have Asperger's. To my knowledge, no authoritative source has yet confirmed Lanza had a formal diagnosis of that or any other emotional, behavioral or developmental condition.

But that lack of evidence - as well as expert consensus that Asperger's was extremely unlike to have triggered a shooting rampage - didn't stop an army of commentators from weighing in.

Now, comes the speculation about whether Lanza might have a history of taking mood or behavior-altering medication.

Don't get me wrong, here. I'm not blaming journalists, bloggers, pundits, Twitter users, and the general public from wondering if Lanza might be taking psychiatric meds.

In fact, it's one of the first questions that came to my mind - even before I heard the reports of his possible Asperger's.

Ever have a hard time remembering to take your meds regularly? Now try tallying up all the psychiatric meds you've ever taken, their dosages and side effects. It's harder than you might assume - especially as time goes on.

When I was interviewing my peers for my book about growing up taking psychiatric meds, I started with what I thought was a basic question: Can you give me your medication history - which meds you've taken in the past, and for how long?

I was shocked at how many people couldn't answer the question with any confidence.

Many children with autism spectrum disorders (ASD) take psychotropic medications to treat associated symptoms of their conditions, such as irritability and anxiety. Usage has increased in recent years, and some recent studies have questioned the evidence base supporting the drugs' effectiveness in young people with ASD.

A new study, published in a supplement to the November issue of Pediatrics, suggests that coexisting psychiatric conditions and problem behaviors might...

Most psychiatric drugs bear some version of the warning: "Do not drink alcoholic beverages when taking this medication."

In reality, though, many people taking psych meds drink anyway. They have various reasons: not wanting to curtail their fun, not putting much stock in the warnings, or simply thinking it's easier to take a proffered drink than explain why they're turning it down.

Doctors oftentimes don't bother to talk to patients about potential dangers. Or they tell patients not to drink, but don't explain why. To make matters worse, because of a lack of studies on the subject, patients inclined to do their own research will have a hard time just how risky it is to drink while taking various kinds of psychiatric medications (I've written elsewhere about this troubling lack of evidence).

A widely publicized study that came out last month in the journal Neurology underscores the problem. The findings, which pooled data from 16 studies, showed that people taking SSRI antidepressants like Zoloft or Celexa were 40 percent more likely to suffer a type of stroke caused by bleeding in the brain and 50 percent more likely to suffer any bleeding in the skull.

Today is World Mental Health Day, and I've been thinking a lot about the terms "mental health" and "mental illness" ever since reading a recent post post on the topic by blogger Natasha Tracy.

Natasha contends that using the politically-correct, cheerier-sounding term "mental health" trivializes psychiatric disorders and ends up shortchanging those who suffer from mental illness. That got me thinking again about a question I've often pondered: Can long-term, maintenance treatment with psychiatric medication take someone with a "mental illness" and restore him or her to "mental health?"